


Hidden Guardian

by TransformersG1fan271



Category: Gravity Falls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 20:45:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9514118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransformersG1fan271/pseuds/TransformersG1fan271
Summary: Stan had lost his twin...or so he thought until he found home in a place called Gravity Falls.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If this looks familiar, it's because I posted it on my DA and tumblr
> 
> Link --> transformersg1fan271.deviantart.com  
> (Tumblr has same name)

_Why weren’t you with him?!_  
Why didn’t you stop them?!  
Why were you so weak?  
WHY DID YOU LET YOUR BROTHER DIE?  
  
Stanley watched with a dazed expression as a coffin was lowered into the ground, the tears streaming from his eyes hidden in the absolutely pouring rain that had everyone but the 18-year old running for cover. Not even the cemetery staff began the process of covering the coffin with dirt, the man passing by for dry shelter leaving Stanley all alone standing before the plot of land that now housed his dead twin brother. He had only gone to get Ford’s backpack, but when he left the front steps of their high school and saw his brother running from some bullies. Stan could only watch as his brother ran right into the road, a large truck honking its horn but it was too late as the vehicle ran into his brother, his body making a sickening thud as it connected with the pavement several feet away. Stan was running before he could even blink, cradling his bleeding brother as the light faded from his eyes, suddenly leaving Stanley truly alone for the first time in his entire life. Sure, the bullies had been charged as the ultimate force of ending Ford’s life, but that gave no solace to the family that grieved nor Stanley, who was blamed by his father day in and day out.  
  
Stan left that very night, his mother holding him close in a hug as she sadly bid him goodbye before her husband showed up after going out to drink his sorrows away.  
  
“Please call me…when ya find a place for yerself.” She whispered, only getting a nod of affirmation and leaving after kissing Sherman’s forehead in goodbye. She wouldn’t hear from Stanley for a very long time, the teen driving away just as his father walked down the street towards what was once his home, the two men sharing a look before he was gone. Stanley drove and drove, taking care of his car along his travels that took him from state to state, the teen offering his services for cash in whatever town he would roll up to, leaving when he scraped by with enough for a week’s worth of travels. As he grew older many people offered him things, women wanted him to be their husband, permanent jobs were offered but not taken, families offered their home but often were politely declined. Stanley never felt any sort of welcoming to these offers, the 27-year old soon driving into a small town he had nearly missed called Gravity Falls one early summer afternoon. The locals greeted him cordially enough, Stan enjoying a meal in the local diner as he toyed with where to go next, yet the map that once was a source of interest was now dull.  
  
It wasn’t until almost six months had passed that it occurred to Stanley he may have found a home for himself.  
  
He found no urge to leave the town, and it seemed like he had been living there his entire life when he learned everyone’s names in a matter of a few weeks. He worked for a while to keep himself in his hotel room, becoming friends with those who frequented the town bar that he was a barkeep at. Those friendships worked to his advantage when one of the older town loggers offered him a home that his family hadn’t used in a long time, Stan working in his off time to get it patched up and worked with the man to add some additions to the shack to make it a home, as he couldn’t have afforded it otherwise. By Christmas time he was moved in and roamed the home often, just admiring the space he had helped build day after day.  
  
_Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring._  
  
“Hello, Pines residence and local fortune teller, which are ya here for?”  
  
“Hey ma…”  
  
“Stanley?!” His mother’s happy voice made Stanley smile, hearing her call for his youngest brother excitedly. “Oh Stanley I’m so happy to hear from ya!”  
  
“Same here ma…I promised I’d call when I found me a place…” He rubbed the back of his neck, mentally noting to get his mullet cut at some point.  
  
“Well ya picked a good time…” She chuckled, Stan doing the same as he imagined her smile. “I was worried this day would never come…”  
  
“I’m sorry ma…I just never found a place…couldn’t settle down until now.” He quietly admitted, tilting his head slightly when he heard some crackling across the line. “Ma?”  
  
“It’s good to hear from you.” Stanley sat up, not sure what to say to his father.  
  
“Pa…”  
  
“…I’m sorry son. I don’t blame you.” Stan blinked at the words he was hearing, his father sounding sad yet…sincere. It was quiet for a few minutes, both sides unsure of what to say or do, so Stanley muttered his phone number so they had the information, then hung up to mull over his father’s words until he went to bed.  
  
_”He sure sounded sad, didn’t he?”_  
  
Stan blinked blearily at the voice coming from his left, the man reaching for the knife he always carried as he listened for movement, yet heard none. He groaned when he saw the time was somewhere at 3 in the morning, Stan turning onto his other side in an attempt to go back to sleep.  
  
_”Don’t ignore me! That’s rude.”_ This time Stan sat up, knife ready for combat, only to fall into Stan’s lap as his grip went slack in surprise. Instead of an empty bedroom that was only partially filled with belongings, there was a shadowy figure perched on his windowsill with legs crossed, a slightly amused face looking right at Stanley. _”Well now you’re awake.”_  
  
“S-Sixer?!” Stan managed to squeak out, his brother tilting his head with a smile.  
  
_”Well hello there yourself.”_ Stan just stared at the ghostly figure of his brother, not sure if he was still dreaming or hallucinating. _”You cut yourself.”_ Looking down Stan cursed at the small cut he had given himself when he had dropped his knife, quickly getting up and going to the nearby bathroom to patch up his leg. He nearly dropped the box of bandages when Ford appeared beside him, thrown for another loop when Ford caught the box and handed it out to his brother.  
  
_”Seems like you’re lost for words again.”_ Ford teased lightly, Stan shakily patching himself up as his brother tilted his head. _”Wow, you really got buff huh? I bet dad would be so jealous.”_  
  
“Just…just stop!” Ford blinked as Stan marched out of the bathroom back to his bed, the ghost floating from the doorway of the bathroom with a confused look on his face. “T-There is no way you’re here!”  
  
_”Why not?”_  
  
“You’re dead!” Stan winced as he said the words, Ford looking around before shrugging.  
  
_”Yep, I know. It’s not like I’ve been watching you go through life for the last nine years or anything.”_  
  
“Wait what?” Ford grinned as he floated closer to his brother, Stan backing away a step in uncertainty.  
  
_”I, uh, didn’t see any light when I died.”_ He began, settling on the bed with a slight indent of the sheets as if he was actually there. _”I opened my eyes and I was hovering over you. I saw you punch that cop who tried to take my body, I saw pa yell at you…I saw everything.”_  
  
“Oh god…” Stanley fell back against the wall behind him, his legs giving out as he began to process what he had just been told. Ford watched with a slight look of concern on his face, scooting closer to Stanley who didn’t move this time. “All this time…”  
  
_”Don’t be sad or anything, you couldn’t see me and I was ok with that. Well, that was until we came here.”_ Ford tapped his chin in thought, offering his hand for Stan to take ahold of when the younger twin felt he had the strength to stand. The younger paused before accepting the offered limb, in shock as he felt pressure pulling him up, but it wasn’t quite all there like a real hand would be. _”Interesting, my control seems to be growing.”_  
  
“Have you been like this long?” Stan questioned cautiously, slowly sitting on the bed beside the ghost, tense as if ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.  
  
_”No, not too long. It started when you move in last week, but I wasn’t visible until yesterday and thought it would be better to wait.”_ Ford explained, seemingly not aware as he began to float into the air a few inches from the bed. _”It is rather fascinating actually, perhaps it is because of this strange town.”_  
  
“Must be.” Stan shrugged, Ford sharing a slight chuckle as he lowered himself back onto the bed and stared at his brother expectantly. “…what?”  
  
_”I admit, I find myself at a loss of what to do.”_  
  
“Yea…me too.” Stan nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose as the late hour let its presence known to the exhausted man.  
  
_”Oh, right you need sleep.”_ Stan raised an eyebrow as Ford floated back up, a grin on his face as the younger lay down with a yawn. _”I’ll be here when you wake up.”_  
  
“You will?” Ford nodded, a small smile crossing Stan’s face as he felt himself be pulled back into sleep, Ford gently pulling some covers over his brother before vanishing from view.


End file.
